


Ok, Now I'm Really Mad

by orphan_account



Category: Community
Genre: Episode Tag, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by pervinca: Post "Paradigms of Human Memory" Troy's sexually frustrated from not touching himself all semester. Abed helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ok, Now I'm Really Mad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pervinca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pervinca/gifts).



> Thanks to pervinca for prompting some of this and encouraging my smutty ways. This is definitely the dirtiest thing I've ever written and you can thank her for that.

“I still can’t believe I fell for that for a whole semester!” said Troy indignantly into Abed’s shoulder for the fifth time.

He and Abed were cuddling on Abed’s couch in his dorm room, and Troy knew he was supposed to be paying attention to the Kicksplasher film on the TV, but his brain just kept looping over and over past the weeks and months of not doing that _thing_ and it made him angry all over again. He had meant what he said when he told Jeff and Britta that he wasn’t angry about them having sex, but he was still mad at himself for believing they would play by their own rules. He also was angry at himself for following the ones they set; a rigid follow-everything-blindly mentality had been enforced on him as a kid growing up in a religious house, but he was 21 now and old enough to make his own choices _dammit_.

Abed detached himself from Troy’s arms, and paused the DVD player. He placed the remote on the cushion beside him.

“Ok, your continued anger is really disrupting our movie time Troy. You’ve said the same thing five times now, which usually means you’re trying to say something else. I’m guessing that thing here is you’re implying that you’re sexually frustrated?” said Abed, cocking his head.

Troy blinked hard. He sighed.

 “It’s just been really hard and-hey!”

He grabbed Abed’s hand, which had been in the process of removing his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” asked Abed calmly.

“Why are you taking off your clothes?” asked Troy, who, embarrassingly, did not sound half as calm as his stripping friend.

Abed slipped his hand out of Troy’s and resumed removing his hoodie as he said, “I’ve seen enough sex comedies to know that pent up sexual frustration is just the beginning down a long path towards unfunny dick jokes and one dimensional female characters. So, for the sake of holding on to our current sitcom genre, we’re going to have sex now.”

He removed his shirt as well; Troy didn’t even try to not stare. His brain was wrinkling too much to bother with being polite. Abed wanted to have sex. With _him_. Like he knew how hard it had been all year trying to not think about the gorgeous curve of his neck or the contours of his stomach, or his pecs for fear of, well-

Troy’s dick was stiff for all of the not thinking he was doing. He swallowed, tense. Abed stared at him impassively with his gentle, mysterious eyes.

He was supposed to say that they were friends and that it wasn’t like that, wasn’t ever going to be like that because it could ruin them forever; he was supposed to say that he’d never even done anything with a guy (omitting the thousand times it had happened in his head, especially once Abed had come around). But Abed smelled like old comic books and chocolate and the ink that ran onto his hands as he storyboarded and re-storyboarded scenes for his films, and he had wanted to taste that for a long time, especially now when his smooth skin was exposed and the long line of his neck was arching into a curve-

“Yeah. Ok. Sex. Sounds. . .sexy,” said Troy, awkwardly.

He tried to smile in a sultry manner, but it unwillingly slid past that into filling up his whole face in excitement and nervousness. Abed smiled back in that uniquely peaceful way he had (whoever called Abed an unreadable robot was a liar), and said, matter-of-factly, “It will be.”

He then got up from the couch and began rifling in the bookcase’s drawer; he extracted lube and a CD.

“Does this happen a lot?” asked Troy, mesmerized.

“Is that important?” asked Abed, fiddling with his stereo. He placed the CD inside, and then returned the case to its home. After the stereo began whirring into life, he stood up with the lube in hand and cracked his neck. The way he was holding himself was different now; his intense gaze through Troy was like a really pleasant smack in the head with a pan. Troy dumbly nodded no.

“Good,” said Abed, locking the door. His body was taut as he deliberately turned around to the sound of tense, shimmering strings on the stereo. As Abed zoned back in on Troy, a man’s voice began to croon through the stereo:

_“Birds flyin high. . .you know how I feel. . .”_

Michael Bublé. He and Abed were going to have sex to _Feeling Good._

“Oh God,” he said far too loud. He clapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed to sound like a woman in a romance novel. Standing in front of him now, Abed’s eyes skimmed up and down his body intently. He put the lube down on the coffee table. Troy swallowed and began undressing by tugging at the sleeves of his sweater.

_“Sun in the sky. . .you know how I feel. . .”_

Abed grabbed his hand and pushed it down to his side as he straddled Troy upright on the couch. Gently but surely, he pushed one hand on Troy’s chest and ran his hand over the muscles on Troy’s torso. They had often touched each others’ chests and stomachs while cuddling during sleepovers and movie nights, but Troy had always been very mindful up until now to think very hard about photographs of his Grandmother when they touched intimately like this to avoid a. . .very unwelcome visitor.

However, seeing as Abed was straddling him on his couch and staring at his mouth like he wanted to eat it, Troy was sure that his ‘visitor’ was not unwelcome anymore.

“I am going to kiss you now,” said Abed. He paused, mouth half opened and awaiting a response. His face was close enough that Troy could feel the faint puff Abed’s breath ghost over his own mouth.

“Ok,” said Troy, breathily. The next moment, his lips were caught in a soft kiss. Abed moved the other hand that wasn’t still rubbing Troy’s stomach up to the back of Troy’s head. Troy moved his right hand to Abed’s face as he kissed back. Abed’s lips were soft and tasted like chapstick and special drink; their first kisses were slow and purposeful. Abed seemed to have plans outside of slow, sensual lovemaking however, because his kisses soon became urgent and hungry. Troy’s lips nearly ached to keep up with the speed and intensity. Abed’s hand guided his head firmly all the while; Troy often daydreamed of his partners taking charge of him, and Abed treating him this way was making his head light with  the number of fantasies it was fulfilling. He moaned in a muffled way as Abed slipped his tongue into Troy’s mouth for the first time, tasting the roof of his mouth. Involuntarily, he began to awkwardly rut against Abed’s crotch from his upright position.

On the stereo, a brass ensemble began to play the seductive opener. Abed began to rut back rhythmically and in time with the band. Troy moved his hands to Abed’s back and flicked his tongue between Abed’s lips. Abed’s tongue was slippery and wet against his, moving and sliding against the crevices of their mouths. Their breaths were shallow and moist; their lips barely parted. Against his jeans and boxer briefs, Troy’s erection was beginning to become uncomfortable. He could feel Abed hard against him, and he thrusted more forcefully, desperate for contact.

 _“I’m feeling good. . .”_ crooned Michael Bublé, and oh god, how that was an understatement. Abed’s left hand was running up his back underneath his shirt now, trailing light scratches with his long, thin fingers, and _damn_ Troy didn’t even know if he was going to make it to the sex part if Abed kept touching him like that.

As if reading his mind, Abed’s kisses slowed, and then stopped. He detangled himself from Troy and said, “We should get naked now, but I want to undress you, so I’m going to take off the rest of my clothes first.

He stood up from the couch, unbuttoned his skinny jeans, and pushed them to the floor. Although he was clearly trying to retain his confident, in control persona, his ankles betrayed him a little by getting stuck in his pants as he tried to pull them off. Troy felt bad, but he couldn’t help but giggle as Abed frowned and wobbled one-leggedly trying to remove them. However, Abed threw back his head in a rare, full laugh in response as he finally dislodged his jeans; Troy’s felt his heart turn into an ice cream cone on a hot day and he willed his eyes to not mist up out of happiness, because no he was _not_ going to cry during sex.

Abed pulled off his briefs, and Troy finally caught sight of his erect package. Troy inwardly breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to disappoint Abed; they were about the same size. Abed was fully erect, and the tip of his penis was shiny with moisture. Troy swallowed with anticipation. He stood up, prepared for Abed to undress him.

Abed was all focus again now that he was free of his clothes. He cocked his head, and Troy watched his eyes move up and down his body; the hair on Troy’s arms stood on end. Abed closed the gap between him and Troy more thoroughly than Troy expected; he was nearly swept off of his feet as Abed pulled him tightly into a kiss. This kiss wasn’t like the others had been, however. Rather than being neat and intent, it was dirty and wet, grasping and needy. Abed’s hands stretched under his sweater and pulled at the sleeves as he thrusted his tongue in and out of Troy’s mouth. Troy awkwardly shuffled out of the sweater with Abed’s assistance; after a minute, it hung loosely about his neck. Abed finally broke the kiss to yank the sweater over his head and throw it across the room.

Abed’s chest was rising and falling visibly now with his breath. He dropped down to his knees, and ground his palm into Troy’s crotch. A wave of pleasure shot up into Troy’s stomach; he sucked in through his teeth, and threaded his right hand into Abed’s soft, dark hair. Abed yanked open the button on Troy’s jeans, and pulled Troy’s pants down around his ankles. Then he ground his palm into Troy’s crotch again; as he did so, he sucked hard on his inner thigh.

_“And this old world is a new world and a bold world. . .”_

“Ah-Abed-“ he gasped, his hand clenching.

“Sit down on the couch. I’m going to give you a handjob.” said Abed. Troy obeyed, tipping backwards with his pants around his ankles. Abed grabbed the lube from the coffee table. He looked up at Troy expectantly, his mouth wet and eyes dilated. Troy nodded, fingers clenching into the couch. Abed’s eyes flicked over to the stereo; he smiled a small smile and flicked open the cap in time with the music.

Abed squirted the lube, rubbed his hands together, and set it back down on the coffee table. He curved his neck to Troy’s thigh and sucked again, more forcefully now than before. Then he curved his right hand around Troy’s shaft, and began to firmly stroke up and down. A sound caught in the back of Abed’s throat, wet and possessive; Troy moaned in pleasure, and threaded his fingers through Abed’s hair again. He stroked Abed’s head in time with the strokes on his dick.

Troy made out the sound of another slide of skin on skin; he looked down and saw that Abed was simultaneously stroking himself. Troy’s stomach clenched pleasantly at the sight. He could feel his legs grow wobbly. Pressure was coiling up like spring inside of him, begging to be released. Abed began to thumb over the head of Troy’s penis too, alternating with the firm strokes around his shaft that were becoming more and more irregular.

“Abed. Abed. Abed,” Troy began to mutter over and over. Abed hummed back gutturally, and planted wet kisses along Troy’s inner thigh. Troy threw his head back; his body was taut and primed for release. He pulled Abed’s hair a little, and Abed moved his head away in response.

_“It’s a new dawn! It’s a new day! It’s a new life! A new life for me-”_

“Ah-“ cried Troy as Abed finally tipped him over the edge with shaking fingers. Abed continued stroking him as his body clenched with pleasure; moments later, Abed’s voice broke with a high pitched gasp. His fingers clenched around Troy’s dick as he came.

 _“I feel so good. . .”_ crooned the stereo. Troy giggled; his body felt like jelly. Abed rested his head between Troy’s legs on the couch. He was breathing hard. Troy wasn’t really sure what to do; he rubbed at Abed’s ear awkwardly and tried to figure out what you were supposed to do after you had sex with your best friend of two years.

After a lot of thinking, he decided the best thing to do was lean over to the coffee table, and grab Abed a handful of tissues.

“Thanks,” said Abed. He stood up shakily, wiped off his hand, and tossed the tissue neatly into the garbage. Then he picked up the remote, pressed play, and sat down again next to Troy. Tentatively, Troy wrapped his arms around Abed; Abed settled comfortably back onto his chest.

Troy touched his lips to the top of Abed’s head and said, “That was awesome.”

 “We should do it again sometime,” said Abed, matter-of-factly. He laced his hand in Troy’s, and squeezed. Troy squeezed back, his heart swelling with emotion.

“Definitely,” said Troy, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”


End file.
